Milan looked up, wiping his face. "You're still here?" He asked, surprised by her presence.
"I am." Johanna's voice was barely above a whisper. All of her energy was focused on this latest shocking news.
"I won't blame you if you run away. If I could, I would run away and never look back." Milan mused.
Johanna sighed heavily, moving to the unoccupied chair and pulling it around the table, so she could sit right next to Milan. "I'm not going anywhere. Like Sarah said, no one is blaming you for anything. Not now. The sheriff is just trying to rile things up and make you sweat. I don't know why, but he has some kind of vendetta against you. That's his problem, not yours."
Milan stood up, tossing the chair back behind him, and grabbed Johanna, pulling her to him.
"I didn't do anything wrong." His shrill voice added to the fear Johanna felt gripping her bones.
"I know." She whispered.
He grabbed her, holding her tightly around the waist, her feet no longer touching the ground. "I didn't hurt anyone." He cried, tears falling onto Johanna's shoulder.
"I know you didn't." She answered, hoping to soothe some of the pain that he fought to control.
He placed her feet down on the ground, still holding. Their eyes met. He studied her, seeing fear he'd caused and wishing he'd not reacted the way he had when he first met her.
She saw the pain in his eyes. Years of sorrow had broken him. Although she was frightened by his sudden movements, she also wanted to comfort him, hold him and tell him that all would be okay.
Without saying a word, he lifted her again, placing her body flush with his and kissed her firmly on the lips. Covering her full, luscious lips with his own desperate mouth, wanting to be free from the pain and free from all that had destroyed the man that he had been. In that moment, he needed Johanna. He needed to know that she wasn't like the others. He wanted proof that she wasn't truly afraid and didn't honestly believe he could be capable of any wrongdoing.
Johanna didn't fight his powerful embrace. She kissed him back, gently at first, trying to read what it is he needed from her in that moment. Then, passion took hold and it no longer mattered as much. She wanted him just as much as he wanted her.
From the moment she met him, she knew that he was far more than people made him out to be. Aside from the heart stopping good looks and wonderfully expressive eyes that bore into her soul, he was something larger than himself. He was wounded just as she had been and she recognized that in him. He wasn't the brute people had made him out to be.
Johanna sensed that behind the strong, aloof facade was a man who needed and wanted to be loved more than anything else. She knew enough about life and loss to recognize a state of utter confusion and countless regrets when she saw it. Milan was the epitome of a life not lived to its full potential, that was not that far removed from who she was.
He pulled away from her just as suddenly as he'd grabbed her and breathed a sigh of much needed relief, instantly wanting to apologize for his aggressive behavior, but Johanna held up her hand to stop him.
"You don't owe me an apology. You've done nothing wrong." She said.
"I don't know what I was thinking." She could see his anger mounting again. He shook his head, walking away from her.
Johanna was not one to back down when challenged. She didn't know how he would react, but she was confident enough to know that kiss meant something. The way his lips and his tongue made her body feel alive wasn't because he'd not put some thought into it and she wasn't about to let him pretend that it was.
"You wanted to kiss me and, quite frankly, I wanted to kiss you. You don't get to pretend that you didn't mean for it to happen. That's not how life works. You wanted to and you did. Nothing wrong with that." Johanna licked her lips, wanting the sensation to last.
He grabbed her again. This time much more gently than before and cupped her face with his strong hands. "Can I kiss you again?" He asked.
She smiled, relieved that he'd decided against running away from something that would bring them both pleasure.
"Kiss me." She whispered, closing her eyes in anticipation of his next kiss.
His hands moved to the back of her head. He pulled her long hair loose from the ponytail she had it in and ran his fingers through her soft locks. Goose pimples formed on her body, sending shivers down her spine. She moaned softly into his mouth. He smiled, sliding his hands down to her small waist and pulling her gently to him, lightly lifting her up onto her tiptoes.
"You won't let me fall?" She teased, bracing herself up against his body.
"Never." He lifted her into the air by her waist and kissed her even more passionately still. Their tongues met, sending chills down his spine.
She ran her fingers through his dark, wavy hair, surprised by how soft it felt. She'd imagined this very moment the second she laid eyes on him, but yet, felt as if this was an impossibility.
He turned with her in his arms, sitting her on top of the counter top. "What are we doing?" he asked.
"Don't fight it." She answered, licking his lips again.
"You are so beautiful." He pulled his lips from hers and cupped her face in his hands again, studying her gentle features.
She bit her lip, needing to know. "Are you talking to me or to her?"
"Paulina?" He asked, feeling guilty for making her feel as if he only wanted her because she reminded him of his wife.
Johanna nodded, bracing herself for the answer she didn't want to hear.
"You, Johanna. I see you. I love Paulina. I always will, but I know she's not here and she's not coming back. Right here, right now, I see you. I can't stop thinking about you. I'm not an easy man. You know that, but I also don't do things without putting some thought into them and you have consumed many of my thoughts lately. It isn't her. She's gone. It's you." Milan looked at her with desperation in his eyes. Johanna tried to reconcile her own feelings in order to clearly see what Milan's were. She didn't want to be a replacement for his dead wife.
"What is going on here?" Sarah stood in the doorway, looking at them in horror.
Chapter 13
SARAH HUNG UP the phone, disappointed that Milan had done the one thing she'd asked him not to do. As soon as she heard him step out of the shower upstairs, she marched into his room, prepared for battle.
“What have you done?” She seethed with rage.
He quickly covered himself with a towel, startled by her sudden presence in his room.
“What is wrong with you, Sarah?” His eyes were wide.
“I asked you to leave her alone. You couldn't do that? Not even for me? What is it with you and your obsession to hurt everyone else because you are hurting? That's not the kind of man I raised and don't look at me like you have no idea what I'm talking about. I know what you did and I promise you that you won't win this argument with me. Why are you doing this to her?” Sarah demanded answers that Milan wasn't sure he could provide without causing more bad feelings.
Holding his head down, Milan shrugged. "I am protecting myself and my home."
"No, you are meddling in things that were not any of your business. Explain to me how you can stand there and judge others and still wake up in the morning as if people and their feelings don't matter. Don't you see that what you are doing is the exact same thing that everyone else in this town has done to you? Why, Milan?" Sarah stood in front of him, her small frame not a match for the six foot tall man.
"Do you mind if I get dressed?" He pointed to the towel wrapped around his waist.
"Go, but we're not done. You are going to tell me what has gotten into you and, then, you're going to explain to me what your intentions are with that poor young woman." Sarah made it clear that she was not going to let the subject go, not this time.
Sarah sat down on the four poster bed, looking around the room, remembering what the room used to look like years ago. So much had changed, yet somehow for her, some things remained the same. She still loved this old house. She reme
mbered all of the love and painstaking work that went into keeping this home up to par with Milan's grandmother's demands.
"That woman," Sarah laughed, "she wouldn't stand for any of this."
"Taking a page from my book?" Milan asked as he sat down next to her. "Talking to yourself now? What woman, by the way?"
"Your grandmother. I was just remembering how much she loved this house and how everything had to be just so or things were not alright with her. Remember that?" Sarah hoped that by changing her tone, Milan would give up the defensiveness that he used as a shield to protect him from anything that required him to admit he was at fault.
"I remember everything." He answered. "She loved this house, didn't she? I miss her."
Sarah nodded, agreeing she missed the senior Mrs. Merced too. "This house knew love. I don't recall a time when everyone was around that there wasn't a feeling of love here. The way your grandmother used to fuss about everything because she needed it to look perfect." Sarah paused, looking around at the nearly empty room. "What do you think she'd say if she knew that the manor looked like this?"
Milan hesitated, realizing why Sarah had brought up the way things used to be. "Some things never change." He mused.
Sarah had to stifle a laugh. She knew that she'd been caught, but it didn't matter. What mattered is that Milan had to understand that although he had every right to want to move on and forget a terrible part of his life, she felt that he was taking it to an extreme.
"Leaving the house behind won't erase what happened. The pain will still be there. I guess that's what I'm trying to get you to understand. It's not about the manor." Sarah explained.
"Why is everyone so obsessed with me keeping the house? I can't live here anymore. I can't live like this. Not with all the..." His voice trailed off, his heartache palpable.
Sarah sighed, fighting back her own pain. "I'm not obsessed with this home. I'm obsessed with making sure that you are doing things for the right reasons and not discarding the life you had here because it hurts too much to remember. Tell me, when you're in California, do you forget that you lived here once, that you had a life here, that you fell in love here?"
"I can't forget. That's the problem." Milan rubbed his temple as if doing so would clear his mind.
"This thing with Johanna - is it real? Do you see her for who she is or are you trying to fill the hole in your heart? Because, I'll tell you what, she doesn't deserve to be roped into something that will only cause her heart ache. Do you realize what kind of impact that could have?" Sarah didn't mean to sound harsh, but the truth was, she worried about every decision Milan made, not just for his sake but for everyone's sake. If she'd learned anything in her lifetime, it was that the decisions that are made impact more lives than the ones that were intended to be impacted.
Milan stood up, again looking out the window. He hadn't wanted anyone to find out that he'd hired a private detective. He knew that it would only cause hurt feelings, but he felt compelled. For years, he'd waited for answers and hoped that they would come to him. Being forced to return here and face all that he'd lost, prompted him to want to protect himself and the memories because, in his mind, he'd failed Paulina.
There were signs all over the place, warning him that danger was lurking. He ignored them at first until they became more and more of a nuisance, but he never fully did anything to resolve the issues.
The Sanders men had done plenty of work around the house and Rob had taken a special interest in Paulina. At first, Milan was annoyed, but not so much so that he felt it would be a problem until it actually became a problem. Paulina began to complain about Rob and, without telling Milan directly, behaved as if Rob's presence made her uncomfortable.
Thinking about all of it now, made Milan want to explode, tear something or someone apart. He was angry at himself. That's what his issue was. He couldn't forgive himself for not doing enough to protect Paulina from the one person she'd made it obvious that she was afraid of. He hated himself for it. His upbringing taught him to remain prim and proper and welcoming and it never gave him the tools he needed to recognize when things around him were failing.
He didn't blame his family. He blamed himself and his idealist way of thinking. He hadn't seen the struggles his family went through. He was born into money and benefited from the spoils of that. Things had come easily for him. He went to a good school, got a good education, traveled, had girls who liked him. He didn't have to want for anything. It was ironic now that he couldn't have the one person who made him feel whole again. No amount of money in the world could fill that void.
When Paulina came into his life, a whole other part of him woke up, a part he never knew existed. It was like a blank canvas had been filled with all of the beautiful colors of the world and Paulina sat front and center as the most beautiful color of them all.
Everything he thought he knew simply floated away and was replaced by this blinding, mind-blowing thing called love and he dove in, never wanting to come back out of it and see the things he should have seen. Paulina consumed him and it didn't matter. That's the way he wanted it and that's the way it remained until she was gone, just like that, without a moment's notice.
Now, reflecting back, he could see that all of the clues he needed were right there for the taking and he did nothing, believing that love would sustain them and that he was untouchable because of who he was and where he came from. His family had practically built this city. No one would hold grudges against them. People loved them. He even believed that Rob's interest in Paulina came from a place more profound than love, like adoration and honor. His family provided them with jobs in a town that wasn't seeing much growth at a time when industries were beginning to fail.
"It won't bring her back." Sarah said what they both knew Milan believed.
"I know." Milan continued to stare out the window.
"She's not Paulina." Sarah warned him again.
“Who isn't?” Johanna stood in the threshold, a look of concern on her face.
Milan looked to Sarah, fearing that Johanna may have heard more than he was ready to admit, even to himself.
Sarah took a deep inhalation of air and nodded at Johanna before walking out, leaving Milan to explain himself and, hopefully, think about the impact his actions would have, not only on himself but on everyone in the household.
Johanna looked curiously at Sarah as she brushed past her with hurried steps.
"Sorry. Did I interrupt something important?" Her large doe-like eyes threw Milan slightly off balance every time he looked at her. He had to will himself not to get lost in them.
"We were just talking about nothing really. Did you need something?" Milan's eyes fell from her beautiful eyes and followed her jaw line, choosing to allow his eyes to linger at the center point of her neck. He often found himself imagining what it would be like to kiss that very spot - the spot that trembled ever-so-slightly when she was feeling particularly saddened by something and moved without much effort when she laughed.
There hadn't been much laughter in the house as of late, but although things had turned sour quickly since Milan's return, there were a few, however brief, moments when Johanna brought much-needed levity and laughter to the manor.
Where he saw darkness and no hope of revival, she saw beauty in everything. What he hadn't yet come to realize is that she saw beauty in him, much like he admired her beauty.
She moved forward, hesitant to sit down next to Milan.
"Is everything alright?" She asked, turning to him.
"Yes, things are fine, I suppose. There's just so much still to do and not enough hours in the day to get it done." He answered.
"That's not exactly what I was asking. Are things alright with you? A person can't live under extreme stress forever and still be okay. I feel like that's what you've been trying to do. I get it. I do. But you will push yourself too hard and, then, eventually, you'll fall apart." She watched as his eyebrows furrowed.
He could feel her eyes
on him. Knowing how his body reacted to her, he forced himself not to look her in the eyes again. Milan feared that she'd see through him, like she always seemed to do, and know that he'd done something that he was ashamed of. The last thing he wanted was to hurt her or anyone.
Paying heed to Sarah's words of warning, Milan did his best not to seem interested in Johanna beyond their working relationship. Years of loneliness and self-hatred taught him to understand that he was in no place to invite anyone new into his life. He knew more than anyone that if the pain was still too much to bear, then, he had not yet recovered from his loss.
"Why do you look so sad now? Has something else happened?" Johanna asked, moving her head into his view.
Milan shook his head, putting his hand on his face in an attempt to shield the feelings he wore on his face. He could still feel her eyes watching his every move. The feeling was both exhilarating and terrifying all at the same time. He wasn't used to women being interested in him anymore. Having built a virtual steel wall, blocking his heart from any and all attempts to sway him, women had the tendency to stay clear of him. Beyond his brooding and ever-present scowling, he felt that his chance at love had long since left him. He'd let it slip through his hands and there was no chance of it ever returning.
Over the last few days, aside from the uneasiness that Johanna fostered in him based on her striking resemblance to the Paulina he'd fallen in love with, she seemed to read his every thought, his every nuance, his every heart's desire and that was nearly as frightening as every other thing he'd been through over the last decade. Love was not supposed to be a part of his life any longer. Not that he felt love for Johanna - at least he didn't think so - but what he did feel, didn't feel natural to him, not in this state.
"Did you have something to say? Is it about that girl? Do you know something?" Johanna feared the worst in that scenario. From what she'd seen, that seemed to be the only plausible answer for what else could be troubling Milan.
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